The Labyrinth Of A Dream

By

I close my eyes and count seconds until it begins. More minutes, I say. A little bit more, it seems. I wait.

I let out a breath; one final until I am drifted off here. No, I am not in a concrete place nor am I at a particular time. I am in the unknown. The void.

I call it with many different names; however for others, one – all the same. A euphemism, perhaps, for something so elusive.

The void, unknown, but never always forgotten. For me, it is a dark place. Somewhat I believe the darkest I could ever let myself imagine.

I begin my wander. I walk through a pathway of my deepest desires and my gravest fears. Hourglasses arrayed at the far end. One for happiness, one for death, and one for all that could have their bittersweet endings.

You see, I have walked into a dream – the euphemism of whatever fearful thing it may be. One of the million uncertainties in this world, forming questions that demand rightful answers.

Awake, I face all the monsters that slowly devour me until my last breath. My mind caverning in endless pain – reality. Until I close my eyes.

I close my eyes and count seconds until it begins. Will I be walking into my own trap? If I have witnessed the complex labyrinth of life in my own mind, in my reality, awake — what more in deep slumber?

More minutes, I say. What if we dream the thousand possibilities: the wishes and the dread, the horror and the laughter, the magical and the mystical, only for them to be forgotten. Not inevitable, but something we have chosen. Lest it may be our own undoing.

A little bit more, it seems. At times i try so hard to remember my dreams, the unknown, the void. But here I beg the question, what if some things are better left forgotten? What if the escape I thought possible was only worse than what I already endure?

I wait. There is only one way to find out.

I am here.